Fire and Ice
by Nathanoraptor
Summary: An archaeological dig finds something beyond their comprehension; an ancient civilisation, unlike any they have seen before. However, the dream turns into a nightmare as an ancient evil awakens and a human one emerges amongst the group. Welcome to a new world of gods and monsters.
1. An Introduction

The arrogance of man is amazing, isn't it?

Humans are always trying to find ways to make themselves unique; above all other beings. 1,500 years ago, humans said that the Earth was at the centre of the universe; the nexus point of everything. 500 years ago, humans thought that they were made in God's image, separate from the animal kingdom. 50 years ago, it was said that Earth was the only planet with life in the entire universe. And 5 years ago, it was thought that our universe is the only existing one. The very idea is ridiculous.

There are thousands of universes; a great multitude of islands floating in the cold, unforgiving sea of space and time. In each of these alternate universes, the reality is different than our own. Sometimes only slightly, sometimes quite radically. Every possible eventuality exists and is expressed.

The number of universes is not infinite; new universes do not pop into existence. How is a new universe formed, you may ask? Central to the formation of a universe is a battle between creation and destruction; a new universe is made on the remains of an old one. From death comes life, in a never-ending cycle of destruction and rebirth.

Why is this important? We'll get to that.

In the universe that existed before this one, there was a name. A name which, when uttered, made many a lifeform quake with fear or quickly turn away, covering what passed for ears. The name belonged to creatures so powerful, so frightening, so infamous for its sheer destructive nature that those who knew of them either cowered from their visage or worshipped them, praying for deliverance… their names were the Lloigor.

They ruled their original universe and, when it wound down and came to its end, they cast themselves through the howling void of time and space to manifest themselves in its replacement. They were on Earth long before the first hominid screeched and jabbered in the Pleistocene sun. We knew them by many names; in China, they were ying lung, in Mongolia luu and in Japan, they were tatsu or ryu. Most humans, however, knew them by a far simpler name. A name that once struck terror in the bravest. A name that made kingdoms tremble… _Dragon_. We thought of them 'gods' and 'demons,' and begged them to spare us and prayed for salvation. It was aught for naught, of course; the Lloigor terrorised us wherever they found us. We were little better than pests; things to be crushed and eradicated. Until, one day, the worst of them all set his eyes on us.

Before that, we must journey to a far-off land; the land that we, one day, would call Svalbard. There was the city of Dale, its markets known far and wide, full of the bounties of vine and vale, peaceful and prosperous. For this city lay before the doors of the greatest kingdom on Earth; the beautiful kingdom of Erebor. Built deep within the mountain itself, the beauty of this fortress city was legend. Its wealth lay in the earth, in precious gems hewn from rock and in great seams of gold running like rivers through stone. The legends stated that the skill of the Dwarves was unequaled, fashioning objects of great beauty out of diamond, emerald, ruby, and sapphire. Ever they delved deep, down into the dark, uncovering more and more gems and gold from the rock. However, the years of peace and plenty was not to last. Slowly, the days turned sour and the watchful nights closed in. King Thrór's love of gold had grown into greed; sequestering it all in a massive hoard in his throne room. A sickness had begun to grow within him. It was a sickness of the mind. And where sickness thrives, bad things will follow.

Smaug the Terrible, the greatest and deadliest of all the Lloigor had come. His powerful claws and teeth sliced and swiped away all who stood in his way. The shock of his tail had created an earthquake that shook the land and his breath reduced the city of Dale to ash. Such wanton death was dealt that day. However, this unfortunate city was nothing to Smaug. His eye was set on another prize. His true goal was the mines of Erebor, for he coveted gold with a dark and fierce desire. Erebor was lost and the dwarven race driven near to extinction; over time, they eventually died out, leaving only their great artefacts and the ruins of their strongholds as trace of their presence. For the survivors of Dale, no such mercy came. They lived in fear of Smaug's wrath and cowered in terror at his vengeance.

This all changed when a brave Viking warrior heard of Dale's plight. This Viking had spent several years travelling far and wide in search of worthy adversaries; helping the helpless and stopping the evil. He heard of Dale's plight, decided to free them from Smaug's tyranny and journeyed to the ruins of Dale to defeat him once and for all. What happened next… is a mystery. Somehow Smaug was defeated and imprisoned. Some say that there was a great battle that tore the land for miles asunder; while others say Smaug was bested and sealed with aid from the warrior's troll ally, who used magic so powerful and so ancient that it could barely be understood by the minds of us mortals. Whatever the case, Smaug's kingdom had become his prison; unable to leave, he was sealed for all eternity. The survivors of Dale dispersed – as long as Smaug lived, they could never return to their old home. They spread all over the world – why, we may even be descended from them ourselves. They put the dragon out of sight and out of mind; and, over time, all memory of Dale and its destroyer had disappeared, as if they had never existed. We went about the planet, none the wiser.

Of course...a Lloigor would not be so easily defeated. Oh no, not by a long shot. Smaug, raging in his prison, vowed revenge on the one responsible, one for which he had gained something that he had never experienced before: CONTEMPT. He would not just die. He, and his entire family line, would be erased as though it were a speck of dirt on the tiniest scale, and woe be to whatever foolish creature that stood in its way.

Welcome to a new world of gods and monsters…


	2. The Discovery

SVALBARD

THE PRESENT DAY

In the fading afternoon light, the helicopter skimmed low along the landscape. The last village of any size had flashed by beneath them ten minutes ago. Now there was only mile after mile of mountains and sparse looking tundra. Sitting beside the pilot, Henry Haddock stared out the window as the coastline swept past. There weren't even any roads in this area, at least none that he could see.

Not the sort of place you'd expect someone to be bankrolling an archaeological dig.

However, Henry Haddock was not an ordinary person.

Henry Harrison Haddock III (an admittedly irrelevant title; however, one he couldn't fail not to add) was twenty-four years old. From childhood, his technological aptitude and genius-level intellect had been apparent. He had moved higher and higher in the world, culminating with, at the age of nineteen, him founding Haddock Industries, a front-runner of the scientific world. He had been well-known for his many innovations… and he never let anyone forget it. Time Magazine had called him, "Genius billionaire playboy philanthropist… and slight egomaniac."

The reason why he was here was not for business. Haddock was well known for his all-encompassing hobbies; in which he poured billions of dollars annually into. In fact, he was fundraiser of the Svalbard dig. He also owned the helicopter. And paid the pilot's wages. A fact of which the pilot was totally aware.

Sitting next to Haddock was a short, thickset man with black hair. This was Jorgenson; if he had a first name, Haddock didn't know it. Jorgenson was Haddock's bodyguard, chauffeur and confidant; basically, Haddock never left home without him.

Haddock clicked the radio mike and said to the pilot, "How much farther?" The pilot turned to him and said, "Five minutes, Mr. Haddock." Haddock turned and said, "It won't be long now." But the tall man folded up in the back seat of the helicopter didn't answer, or even acknowledge that he had been spoken to. He merely sat, with his hand on his chin, and stared frowning out the window.

Haddock shook his head; that was Hans Westegard. Westegard was a business associate of Haddock's; Westegard had asked to accompany Haddock to the archaeological dig for reasons he had never been quite concrete on. In an immaculate business suit, he didn't look like the sort of person who would be heading out here. As the helicopter cut over the hill, they noticed a small collection of tents near the side of a massive mountain. And, as the helicopter got closer, Haddock noticed the dig team continuing their excavations.

A tall blonde woman, about the same age as Haddock, stood, waiting for the helicopter. As the helicopter landed and Haddock got out, she extended her hand, "Dr. Astrid Hofferson, at your pleasure." Haddock smiled wryly, "Dr. Hofferson, it's nice to finally meet you. And I believe you've already met Jorgenson. Have I introduced you to my colleague, Hans Westegard?" Dr. Hofferson's eyes narrowed, "No, I don't believe you have. It's a pleasure." Westegard gave a smug little smile, "It's a pleasure."

Several members of the team looked at each other. There'd been whispers around the dig site that Haddock was looking for something specifically. There had been talk about cursed treasures, ancient secrets and other things. Astrid looked and said, "So, what's our fundraiser doing here?" Haddock shrugged, "Eh, just visiting… You said you'd made some 'interesting discoveries'"

Haddock looked around; there were a couple of people missing. He decided to throw caution to the wind and asked, "And where are the rest of the team?" Astrid shrugged, "A underground scan came up with unusual results; they're investigating that." Haddock gave her a weird look, "And what have you found so far?" She smiled, "I'm glad you asked; Ingerman, show our fundraiser what we've found."

Ingerman, a stocky man with dirty blonde hair, about the same age as Haddock and Astrid, walked up to Haddock and Westegard, and said, in his distinctive fast-talking voice, "We've found several runic writings and carvings of unknown origin." He gestured to the table which had a rock with runes carved on it and a crude stone carving of a dragon. Westegard sneered, "Wow, what great discoveries. I think I was expecting something a bit more… impressive."

Ignoring his sarcasm, Ingerman continued, "Oh, you can't understate what we've found here. We've found runes that match no known runic alphabet, as well as carvings that match no known culture, although there are similarities to Nordic carvings…" At Ingerman's monologue, Westegard narrowed his eyes and said, patronisingly, "Speak English." At the dismissal, Ingerman's eyes widened, "Well, we appear to have found a lost culture. Totally unrecorded by history; until now, that is." Jorgensen smirked, "Cool."

Suddenly, a loud, Scottish accented voice came from nearby, "Is that Henry Haddock?" A large, blond-haired, bearded man walked up to Haddock, took his hand and said, in a bone-crushing handshake, "Glad to see you again, laddie." Haddock smiled, "It's good to see you again, Gobber." Haddock had known "Gobber" since childhood; whilst "Gobber" was not his real name, it was the name everyone knew him by. Gobber smiled wryly, "So, are ye the seventh richest man in the world, now?" Haddock smiled and he said in a tone of false modesty, "Eighth. Close. Anyway, it's not every guy who discovers the last relics of a lost civilisation…"

Astrid gave a cold smile, "Well, I wouldn't jump to conclusions... we don't have much yet." Suddenly, Reidun Thorsten's voice crackled in from the radio, "Uh, boss… we've found something. Something big. As in, really big." There was something in her voice… something that indicated they'd found much more than runes and carvings. However, they had to be sure. Astrid reached the radio first and asked "Please define what you mean by 'really big'?"

Deep within the mountain, Reidun stood, mute with awe, with her brother, in front of their discovery. What they had found was a gigantic door, some 100 feet high, with runes carved along its length. She lifted her walkie-talkie and said, "Huge."

 **Sorry this seems rushed.**

 **If you haven't guessed it, a** _ **lot**_ **of Henry Haddock's personality is based on Tony Stark; in fact the Time magazine summation of him is quoted directly from Tony Stark's summation of himself in the first Avengers (apart from the slight egomaniac bit). What can I say? I like Iron Man.**

 **I deliberately didn't mention the whereabouts of Haddock's parents. 'Cos a) it diverges it from cjupsher's version, who was very Batman/Bruce Wayne-inspired and b) I really don't know if I want (an equivalent of) Valka to appear at some point.**


	3. The Beast Below

The whole team was now standing in front of the gigantic door. Ingerman said, breathless, "The runes on the door match the rest of the artefacts. I think we've just found their main stronghold." Jorgenson turned to Reidun and said, "I guess you guys are going in." Reidun smirked, "Nope. We send one of these babies in." She lifted a small, dragonfly-shaped probe and smirked, "This is going to scan whatever's behind that door and transmit it to us". Climbing to a crack in the rock face surrounding the door, she released the probe, which buzzed off into the cave.

The probe entered the cave and scanned down a long corridor; a great hallway of the ancient stronghold. On the walls were carvings; some depicting mines and treasure, others depicting monsters and battles. As it headed through the ruined city, it came upon a chamber full to the brim with gold, and moved down to get a sample. Suddenly, the mounds of gold began to move, revealing one gigantic eye. That was the last thing the probe noticed, before it was crushed in a pair of gigantic jaws… Meanwhile, above the ground, Reidun noticed the screen go black, "Damn it. We've lost contact with the probe". Astrid sighed, "Looks like we'll have to do this the old-fashioned way…"

She gestured to her team, "Tordunn, Gobber, you lot are with me." Astrid turned to Reidun and Ingerman, "Reidun, Ingerman, you stay up here in case we need you." Reidun and Ingerman sighed, with Reidun muttering "The techies always get left behind." Tordunn, her brother, walked up to her, a smirk on his face, "Don't worry, sis. I'll bring you back a carving…" Reidun gave him a stare and huffed. Haddock walked forward and said, "I'm accompanying you." Astrid gave him a look, "Why?" Haddock shrugged, "I want to see this discovery for myself." Jorgensen then stepped forward, "If Henry's going, I'm going too; it's my job to make sure nothing happens to him." Westergard stood forward and said, "Actually, I'd like to come along as well." He smirked, "I really want to see this."

The team clambered through a gap in the rock face and entered the cave, torches at the ready. They shone their torches across a large hall. Astrid sighed, breathless in awe, "This wasn't just a stronghold. This was a kingdom." Suddenly, she heard Jorgensen sigh, "Wow" and they all turned to look at him shining his torch at the ceiling. Jorgensen turned to them all and said, "Look."

They shone their torches up to the ceiling to look at the ornate carvings. The carvings depicted an army standing against a huge, winged monster, but to no avail. Other carvings depicted the monster tearing down the door and destroying all in his path, and another depicted a man riding a smaller winged beast flying towards the monster. Gobber looked at the carvings and said, "Looking at these carvings… I've heard of this story before." Haddock looked at him, confused, "Well, tell us then."

Gobber turned and dramatically addressed the assembled, "Right, the mines of Erebor were the stronghold of the Dwarf civilisation, ruled over by King Thror. However, King Thror's love of gold grew into greed; he sequestered it all in a hoard in his throne room. This attracted Smaug, greatest of all the Lloigor, due to his coveting of gold. Smaug burnt down the city of Dale, which separated him from his prize. After decimating Erebor and forcing the dwarves into exile, Smaug wreaked havoc on the surrounding land. In particular, the survivors of Dale were living in constant fear of the dragon."

"The ruler of Dale, Girion, had been killed defending his city from Smaug, as had half of his people. His daughter, forced into leadership, tried to keep the remainder of her people safe, but they were losing hope. They were living in fear of Smaug's wrath and cowered in terror of him."

"However, their salvation soon arrived, in the form of a brave warrior and his companions, from a land far off, astride mighty dragons. Their leader was said to be carried upon the wings of the offspring of lightning and death itself and wielded a sword that blazed with the power of dragon's fire. Sympathetic to Dale's plight, the riders vowed to stay and help the people; they would not leave until the monster was defeated. So, the rider and the princess formulated a plan. They journeyed to the ruins of Dale and the rider challenged Smaug to single combat. If Smaug was defeated, Smaug would leave Erebor and the surrounding land in safety. If the rider was defeated, Smaug would keep Erebor and the survivors of Dale would leave. Smaug's considerable pride being what it was, he accepted."

Jorgensen raised his eyebrow, "Well, what happened next?"

Gobber shrugged, "That's kind of a mystery. Some say a great battle took place, a battle that tore the land asunder, with the rider eventually defeating Smaug. Others say that the rider was tricking Smaug into a trap; he had a troll ally who used ancient and powerful magic to best and seal Smaug. Whatever the case, Smaug was bested; the duel was hard fought, but the rider and his mount won."

Haddock chuckled, "And what happened after that? They all lived happily ever after?"

Gobber shook his head, "Sadly, no. Dale was still left destroyed; its people could not return to their old home. So, the people of Dale left; to find a new home, somewhere else." Astrid looked, curiously, "And the riders? What happened to them?"

Gobber shrugged, "Opinion's heavily divided on the matter. Some say the riders simply went home; the battle was won and they had no interest in staying to lead. However, the Princess of Dale, having fallen in love with their leader, left with them, delegating leadership to her cousin. Other versions say the rider and his mount sacrificed themselves to slay Smaug once and for all, whilst some say the rider was victorious, but both he and his mount died from their wounds in the battle. But the legends always say one thing; the rider and the princess promised themselves to each other, if they met again in another life." At this, Haddock rolled his eyes, "Don't you just love happy endings? Well, thank God we won't be able to test the veracity of this tale. Well, anything in here'd be dead by now."

Unbeknownst to the explorers, somewhere, beneath the mountain, there was a gigantic and vast chamber filled with a huge treasure hoard. Mounds and mounds of gold were everywhere, with gems, jewels, rubies… every treasure one could think of. This treasure had belonged to Erebor, once. Now, however, it belonged to someone else.

Smaug, the greatest and deadliest of the Lloigor, the monster who had burned Dale and taken Erebor. His powerful claws and teeth had sliced and swiped away the dwarven soldiers, his massive tail created an earthquake that shook the mountain and his fiery breath was so hot it had reduced all to dust and ash. Now he lay, sleeping, imprisoned by that accursed spell all those years ago, sleeping amongst the hoard he had taken as his trophy.

Smaug slowly lifted his head, freeing himself of the gold fully. After thousands of years, his rest had been disturbed. He growled angrily and sniffed the air, trying to take in every scent. He let out a low growl; he could smell humans in his domain. Someone had broken into the ruins. Had they stolen his treasure? Looking about him at the mountains of gold, Smaug assessed each piece; he knew his hoard down to the last coin and saw that nothing had been taken.

However, Smaug's mind drifted to other matters. Among the human scents, there was a scent he remembered. A scent he hadn't smelled for thousands of years. His eye narrowed in rage at the memory. Finally, the day had come; a day he had dreamed of for millennia. The ones whose deaths he had fantasised about for thousands of years had returned. Were they here with the intention of stealing from his hoard, as a trophy to their victory? Or were they there to finish him off and complete the battle they had begun? It didn't matter, of course. They would still pay.

His eyes narrowed in satisfaction.

 **Oh dear.**


End file.
